


Ghost

by bisexualbarry



Series: olivarry week 2018 [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barry Allen Works For The SCPD, Bisexual Barry Allen, Fluff, Gay Oliver Queen, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Olivarry Week 2018, Paranormal, Supernatural Elements, oliver is a ghost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 20:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15299760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualbarry/pseuds/bisexualbarry
Summary: My ghostWhere'd you go?What happened to the soul you used to be?Barry moves into an old house in Starling City after accepting a great job opportunity. Unbeknownst to him, it was haunted by a lonely man who killed himself in the 1960's.Olivarry Week Day One: Supernatural/Fantasy AU





	Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> [ghost by halsey](https://youtu.be/iQFKgPBtYdc)
> 
> first time participating in olivarry week! (:
> 
> i hope you enjoy this. i had a bit of fun with this :D it gets a little rushed near the end, but that's mainly because i didn't want it to get super long, LOL
> 
> btw, all song titles for these things will be halsey songs (: im not basing any of them on the songs, just using them as titles and for summaries (:

Barry thought the whole 'supernatural' was a load of bullshit. Even from a young age, he always firmly believed that everything could easily be explained. Bumps in the night never startled him, and while he was scared of the dark when he was younger, it was more because of not being able to see that scared him more than the possibilities that lurked in the darkness.

He saw the house for sale on a website with an address he could only vaguely remember. The lady on the other side of the phone was nice enough, but her choppy sentences and rushed explanations left Barry curious as to why she seemed so insistent on getting out of the place. When he got to the house, he was pleasantly surprised to find the old two story house was mostly in a good condition. The lawn was overgrown and filled with weeds, with a cracked pathway leading up to a front porch. It needed some work, obviously, but it was in a decent enough condition for Barry to live there and slowly make the restorations it needed.

His shoes scuffed lightly against the concrete, pebbles being kicked as he walked up the front pathway. There was a car in the driveway, already turned on and looked as if it was prepared to leave at a moment's notice. It was filled with what Barry assumed were last minute things she hadn't gotten yet in the time she had took to move out. Barry officially owned the house, but he wasn't able to make it to the old Starling City house until recently. He just needed to get the keys from the previous owner.

As he stepped through the front door, a pair of keys were suddenly shoved into his hands. "Here. Don't contact me again," the lady, Erika if Barry remembered right, said, pushing out the door once Barry had the keys.

"Alright then," Barry muttered, closing the door. Looking around, he noticed most of the furniture was still there. All personal things had been removed, but there was enough still there that Barry didn't have to buy a lot of things for his everyday use.

Walking up the staircase, he noticed how it seemed to grow cold in a certain area. Standing in the middle of it, Barry looked up to see an entrance to what he assumed was the attic, with a rather large padlock on it. He furrowed his eyebrows, staring at it in curiosity. Erika hadn't said anything about an attic, nor did she say _why_ it would even be locked. Deciding to just worry about it later, Barry went exploring the rest of the house.

Barry spent the rest of the day moving his stuff into his house. His foster father, Joe, his foster sister, Iris, and his friends Cisco and Caitlin helped him bring stuff in. To be expected, Iris inquired about the attic, but without an answer, they left it be. They had a quick dinner before the others left for the night, with the promise to visit again soon.

Humming softly, Barry finished unpacking the kitchen. He would have to go grocery shopping the next day, but having all his silverware and pots and pans put away was a good start to settling in. He was pleased to have bought his first house with his own money. Granted, Joe wasn't fond of him moving from Central to Starling, but working at Starling City Police Department was too good of an opportunity to pass up. He replaced the mattress left on the bed with the one he bought, pushing the old one in the direction of the front door to take care of in the morning. After making his bed, he started unpacking his clothes, wanting to just grab clothes straight away from his closet without digging for anything as he got ready for work.

When he went to hang up a shirt, he was startled when there was a creaking sound outside his door. He hung up the shirt before peeking out his door. After not seeing anything, he shrugged, passing it off as something to do with the old house just settling. Once he was finished for the night, Barry slipped into some sleep clothes and went to bed.

**~*~**

When Barry got home after work the next day, Barry was startled to find a box of clothes he hadn't unpacked yet on its side and the clothes scattered over the floor. After making sure that not only were his windows locked, but also making sure there wasn't any wind coming through, he stood over the spilled clothes with his hands on his hips. Finally, he decided he must've accidentally kicked it in his rush to get to his first day of work on time.

Barry turned on his Bluetooth speaker and set it on his bedside table before clicking 'shuffle' on a playlist on his phone and blasting the music as he unpacked the rest of his bedroom and the connecting bathroom. Singing along, Barry couldn't help but smile as he worked. While he would miss his friends and family, he was loving having his own place more and more. Granted, the two story house may have been a bit too much for one person, but he wasn't complaining. It was cheap and a decent distance away from SCPD.

Folding the last box in his room, Barry smiled as he looked around. He was rather proud of the progress he had made in the time he had been there. There was a shattering of a glass coming from his kitchen, causing him to almost jump out of his skin at the sound. Making his way to the kitchen, Barry saw the pile of glass in the middle of his kitchen. Furrowing his eyebrows, Barry glanced around before sighing softly and getting the broom to sweep it up. Feeling like someone was watching him, Barry looked around as he threw away the glass, huffing softly when he couldn't see anybody.

"Hello?" he tried, setting the broom against the wall.

Feeling silly, he rolled his eyes and went to make himself dinner, moving his speaker onto the island behind him, singing along as he worked.

Later on, as he was Skyping Iris, he thought to bring it up. "As I was putting clothes away, a glass in the kitchen fell onto the floor. I don't even remember having one on the counter."

 _"Ooh, maybe your house is haunted. Has there been anything else?"_ Iris teased, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity in her voice.

"Okay, one, there's no such thing as ghosts. And secondly, only things that can be easily explained. Creaking floors- old house settling. Knocked over box of clothes- I must've knocked it over this morning. Same thing with this glass. Must've been earlier today, and I just never realised I had a glass near the edge of the counter. I opened the windows after I got home, so a large gust of wind must've pushed the glass onto the floor," Barry theorized.

 _"You need to open your mind more, Bear,"_ Iris said with a laugh. _"Not everything can be easily explained. You believe in aliens. How are ghosts any different?"_

"Okay, listen. Aliens and ghosts are two completely different things. For starters, the universe is way too big for Earth to be the only planet with life on it. Ghosts, however, are works of fiction. There's no physical proof that there are human souls who wander around Earth. The most people have gotten is audio or video, and who's to say those aren't faked? There's no actual way of proving that any paranormal evidence hasn't been faked."

 _"Okay, Barry. I get it."_ Iris laughed. _"Other than not ghosts, how are settling in?"_

"Pretty okay. I still have to go grocery shopping. I just have a few things I bought on the way home from work today to get me through the rest of the week until I can get to the store this weekend. I also have my kitchen and bedroom completely unpacked. Only have a couple more rooms left and I'm done."  Barry grinned.

_"Wow, you move fast. Have you found out anything about the attic yet?"_

"No. I was thinking about maybe asking Lance, or some people who live here in the area. I was thinking about poking up there later and see what's up there."

 _"Please be careful, Barry. You don't know what's up there, and it's an old house. You don't know what kind of critters are up there."_ Iris quirked an eyebrow. _"Call me if you find anything interesting, though."_

"You know I will."

They hung up not long after, leaving Barry to sigh quietly to himself. He was in desperate need of space at the moment. Iris, a woman he thought he loved, was engaged to Joe's partner Eddie. And shortly after, Barry started dating a new cop named Patty, only for her to move away almost a year into their relationship. While working at SCPD was a great opportunity, it was also out of Central, which he needed.

After leaving his laptop on the kitchen island, Barry grabbed his phone and a flashlight and made his way to where the entrance to the attic was. When Barry got there, he made quick work of picking the lock before pulling down the ladder. The ladder creaked under his weight, like it had been a good few years since it's been used. Poking his head up through the opening, he was unsurprised to be met with cobwebs and dust. What he was surprised with, however, was the old mannequin standing the corner of the room, what looked to be some sort of green uniform on it. At its feet was an old archery bow, the wood of it warped and the string broke.

"What the hell?" he muttered, eyes scanning over it. There was a trunk off the to the side, a lock keeping it firmly shut. There wasn't anything else in the attic, other than an old table, and it made Barry wonder why the attic was locked in the first place if this was all that was up here.

Pulling out his phone, Barry did his best to look anything up involving the green suit in front of him. He was met with no results, and his confusion only heightened. Lightly, Barry ran his fingers over the front of the suit, smiling a little at how it was made. The air around him grew cold, but he ignored it as he continued staring at the mannequin in front of him.

"Get out of my house."

Letting out a squeak he would later deny, Barry spun around, aiming the flashlight at a slightly taller male figure. Even with the shine of the flashlight, it was still hard to see in the dark attic. The stranger's features were hard to make out. "The hell? No, this is my house. I live here. You need to get out of mine before I call the cops."

"You don't belong here," the man said, his voice gruff.  "Now leave."

Huffing in annoyance, Barry grabbed his phone once more, dialing 911. By the time he had them on the phone, the man was gone. His presence had still startled Barry, so he requested someone to come to the house.

When an officer arrived, Barry was pacing in the front hall. He felt a little silly, because the officer standing in front of him was someone Barry worked with often. Better safe than sorry, he supposed. A search of the house was done, and when there was no man in the house, Barry grew more frustrated.

"Look, kid, you can call me straight away if you see this guy again, alright?" the man, Officer Boyd, said. "But between you and me, I think you should call one of those paranormal teams instead."

"Not you too," Barry complained, running a hand through his hair.

"A man hung himself in the attic in the sixties, kid. I'm just saying." Officer Boyd gave him a quick pat on the shoulder before making his way out of the house.

"The sixties?" Barry muttered to himself, locking the front door. "I didn't think this house was that old."

The next time Barry saw the man, it was in his own bedroom. He was getting ready for bed when he saw the stranger sitting on the edge of the mattress. Freezing to the spot, Barry just stared at him in shock. Whether from the boldness of the action, or fear, he wasn't exactly sure. But what he did know was that he wasn't moving from his spot in the doorway between his bedroom and the connecting bathroom.

"You don't listen very well," he said, staring right at Barry. In the better lighting, Barry could see the intensity of the blue in his eyes. Also, he was transparent.

"You're dead," Barry muttered after a moment, pointing weakly at the stranger. "Holy _fuck_ , you're a _ghost_."

"Excellent deductions, CSI Allen." The man stood up and took a couple steps towards Barry. It took everything in him to not lock himself in the bathroom. "You need to leave."

" _No!_ I'm not going to be bullied by a man who can't even touch me," Barry argued. A very fit man, but Barry wasn't about to vocalize that particular thought. "Who are you? And why are you haunting my house?"

"My house," the man corrected. "As for who I am, well...I'm sure you can figure that out on your own." The smirk on his face did things to Barry's heart, but he pushed it down. Being attracted to men was something Barry had accepted long ago, but being attracted to a _dead_ man was something else entirely.

Wordlessly, Barry watched in a bit of amazement as Oliver seemed to just dissolve and vanish into thin air. He gaped for a minute before letting out a shaky breath. This guy, who kept telling him to leave, was a _ghost_. Something that, until just then, Barry didn't even believe in. But staring at the spot where the ghost had just occupied, Barry couldn't deny it anymore. Ghosts were a thing, and his house was haunted by one. A fit one, nonetheless.

**~*~**

Scrolling through the files on the computer in front of him, Barry was intensely focused. He was trying to find any previous owners before himself, or any reports of a suicide in the house. Finally, he found something. And it made his blood run cold.

 _Name: Oliver Jonas Queen_  
_DOB: May 16, 1935_  
_DOD: August 20, 1967_  
_COD: Suicide by hanging_

There was a picture attached to the file, and it was the same man Barry saw in his house. There was also an article regarding an archer who went by the name of _Green Arrow_ that went around helping the police solve crimes. There was a group of civilians who had tried catching him, but they never had any luck in getting any solid evidence against him. By the information alone, Barry guessed the attic used to be the Green Arrow's base of operations. What didn't make sense, however, was why Oliver hung himself.

At home later that night, Barry was on edge. He was waiting for Oliver to appear at any moment, but he seemed content with not appearing. Eventually, Barry made his way back up to the attic, and straight to the trunk. After searching for a bit, Barry found a key in the costume's pocket, and managed to get the old trunk open. Inside was a spare bow (warped with age), different herbs and medicines, a cloak, various papers, and a small black book. The book itself was hard to read, but from what Barry could see, there were multiple names, with many of them crossed out. A few of the old papers crumbled under Barry's touch, but there were a few that Barry could read. Much of it didn't make much sense, relating to something with old crime bosses and mobs that hung around Starling.

A familiar chill ran up Barry's spine, the hair on his arms standing up amongst the goosebumps that raised. "Oliver?" he asked quietly, not turning around.

A transparent hand hovered over Barry's, the one still holding a few papers. Barry finally managed to look up, seeing Oliver looking down at the trunk. "I'm amazed much of the contents remained in decent condition," he said after a moment. "I haven't been able to look in here in fifty years."

"Why did you kill yourself?" Barry couldn't help but ask.

Momentarily thrown off guard, Oliver stayed silence. His gaze was still on the trunk in front of him, but Barry could see the slight crease between his eyebrows as he thought. "I've heard that question a lot, but it never seemed to truly be sincere until now," he said, chuckling a little. "Everybody wants to know why you ended your life, but no one _really_ wants to." He looked up at Barry, the two of them making eye contact. "I've always been a bit jealous of the living. After a lifetime of being alone, the afterlife is spent in solitude, as well. But the living...they keep going. They get chances I wish I had when I was alive."

"Like what?" Barry asked softly. He sat down on the ground, his legs growing tired from his squatting.

Oliver sat down as well, letting out a soft sigh. "I made a lot of enemies over my life. I don't know how much digging you did, but the Queen name used to be really big during the forties and fifties. My dad built his own company from when he was young, but it didn't really get big until I was about seven. And it did get big." He swallowed thickly. "Other people got jealous, of course, and we got a target on our backs. What my sister and I weren't aware of, though, is my dad made a deal with the mob. It's how the company got so big.

"During the later half of the fifties, the mob went after my dad. He wrote down all the names in that black book that helped him. After he was killed, my mom found it and confronted one of them. She was later killed, too, but I found the book in her room. It wasn't until about 1960 that I started going after people in the book. I learned archery when I was young, so I used that to my advantage. When...when I was doing that, someone found out who it was killing people. People liked me, because I was getting rid of mob members, but I was also a murderer. It didn't sit well with people.

"My sister was killed in 1965. She was only twenty years old. I spent the next two years unhappy. Being gay...it wasn't common back then. I was miserable. I wouldn't be able to marry a man, couldn't marry a woman even if I tried, and my whole family was dead. I couldn't do it anymore. Plus, with having the mob after me, I wanted to die my own way."

Barry was quiet, taking in the story. He gave Oliver a small smile. "I wish you were alive now," he said sincerely. "You're a good guy, Oliver, based on everything you told me. You were trying to get rid of the bad guys, but you got the short end of the stick. Have you been outside this house since you died?"

"I can't. I can only be here," Oliver said sadly. "I haven't seen my family home since 1960, when I started. I didn't want to attract attention to the house. But I know being gay and whatnot is accepted nowadays. A gay couple lived here about five years ago. I was jealous."

"I'm sorry," Barry said sincerely. "I'm bisexual myself, so I know how it feels to be hard on yourself for your attraction to men. How scared you are to even admit it to yourself, so you can't imagine what other people will even think. But when you eventually do, admit it to yourself, it feels like relief."

Oliver smiled at Barry. "Out of all the people who have lived here, I'm glad it was you this time around," he said softly.

"Why did you scare everybody else off?" Barry asked, laughing a little.

"Wanted to be alone," Oliver answered honestly. "After my life, I felt like I deserved to spend the rest of eternity by myself."

"Well I'm not going anywhere," Barry joked. "We may not be able to touch or anything, but I'll always be here to talk if you ever need it. I do have to say, though, stop messing with my stuff. You can drain batteries from things, if you need to do anything, but that's it. No more breaking glasses, or pushing my clothes over."

Oliver laughed. "Alright, I can do that."

**~*~**

It took awhile for the two to really get as close as they were. People were surprised because Barry's been in the house for nearly a year and had no hint to even get anywhere close to leaving. He was the longest resident in _years_ , and Barry proudly wore that title. Oliver appeared more and more, and Barry had to constantly buy new batteries because Oliver drained them to do different things, or even appear in front of Barry.

Barry was also only human. Being around someone as gorgeous and kind as Oliver always made Barry's heart thud happily in his chest. If Oliver were alive, he'd be making a move now and more than likely making out with Oliver on the couch. But Oliver wasn't alive, and Barry struggled with that more and more with each passing day.

Cooking one night with Oliver sat on the stool behind him, Barry pretended it was just a regular domestic evening between him and his boyfriend. If he ignored it enough, Barry could even pretend that he was cooking for two, instead of just himself.

"This is extremely domestic," Oliver commented, echoing Barry's thoughts. "I wish..."

"Me too," Barry whispered, watching the food in front of him with intense interest. "I wish so much that we weren't born so far apart."

"Barry-"

"No, forget it. I'm just being stupid." Barry waved Oliver off, finishing up and starting to dish himself up food. He took a shaky breath, sitting on the stool next to Oliver's. After picking at it a bit, he turned to look at Oliver. "Knowing you has been one of the best things to ever happen to me. Iris always teases me because I've been happier lately, but I haven't had to courage to tell her or Joe who it is I have feelings for. Because this guy isn't even alive, and I'll never be able to be with him."

Oliver smiled sadly. He reached over to where Barry had set his fully charged Bluetooth radio and his hand hovered over it a minute. When Oliver looked more solid, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Barry's. Taking advantage of the short time, Barry kissed back, feeling his eyes fill with tears. All too soon, Oliver gradually became less solid until he was completely transparent. Barry fell forward a bit before blinking away rapidly and sitting back up.

"I love you, Barry," Oliver said softly, a small smile on his face.

"I love you, too, Ollie," Barry whispered back, wiping the tears from his face. "God, I feel so stupid. I fell for someone I physically can never be with."

"I fell for someone whose heart still beats in his chest," Oliver replied.

"That sounds like a line from _Corpse Bride_ ," Barry joked.

"I love that movie. The last owner had a daughter who watched it almost religiously." Oliver laughed. "That's one thing I love doing, especially with you."

"Watch movies? Why's that?"

"Because, for a couple hours, I can pretend I'm not actually dead. Whether I appear like I am now, or even if I'm just a presence in the room, I can just watch a movie and forget," Oliver explained.

Barry blushed lightly. "I wish you could come with me to work. I can't imagine the intensity of your stir craziness."

"After awhile, you get used to seeing the same walls surrounding you." Oliver shrugged. "But being around you definitely helps."

"Well aren't you sweet," Barry said with a bit of a laugh.

"I do miss food, though. Your cooking smells absolutely amazing."

"Actually, everybody I cook for does say I'm an excellent cook," Barry bragged, grinning widely. "My favorite thing to cook is breaded chicken. It tastes amazing the way I make it."

Oliver hummed softly, smiling as he just stared at Barry. Barry blushed, finishing the last of the pasta in his bowl. Barry smiled back, glancing down at the older man's lips before looking back up at his beautiful blue eyes. They smiled at one another for awhile before Barry looked away to put stuff away. His cheeks were warm as he smiled to himself, keeping his focus on what he was doing. When he turned around to talk to Oliver, the man had disappeared.

**~*~**

Another year passed, and the more feelings for Oliver grew. If it was anybody else, he was sure he'd be planning a wedding about now. How he felt for Oliver...it was unlike anybody else. Barry was absolutely certain the other man was his soulmate. He wished, desperately, Oliver had born during a time where they'd be able to be together. It hurt so much that they'd never be together the way he so desperately wished they could. Oliver would drain things every so often so they could share quick kisses, or soft touches. Like Oliver touching Barry's face, or Barry touching any part of Oliver.

"You're my soulmate," Barry said as they sat facing one another on the couch. "I'm convinced you are. Fate was mean to us, though, and tried to make it so we never met."

"I agree," Oliver agreed, smiling.

Every muscle in Barry's body yearned to touch Oliver, to be held in his arms, be kissed senseless, but he knew they would never be. "I just wish we could be together," he whispered.

"Me too." He then furrowed his eyebrows a moment before speaking again. "No matter what, though, I don't want you to do anything stupid to yourself just for us to be together. I'm serious, Barry. I don't want you to end your own life for me."

"Okay," Barry agreed easily, biting his bottom lip after. "I'm sure if I did, you'd revive me just to kill me again."

Oliver laughed. "I can't help if you do die of old age, or anything else. I just don't want you to be the cause of your own death."

"I understand," Barry said. He reached towards Oliver's hand, sighing softly as it just passed through. "We've been dating for almost two years, and I can count on one hand the amount of times we've held hands. Two for kissing."

"I'm sorry." Oliver turned his hand over, so it faced up, as the two of them tried to hold hands despite their circumstances. He sighed softly, looking back up at Barry. "I'm really in love with you, you."

Blushing happily, Barry smiled back. "I'm really in love with you, too."

They usually spent their time talking, or even sitting quietly with one another. They didn't always have to fill the silence with noise, or business. They loved sitting with one another, and they loved it.

A couple months after Barry promised to Oliver that he wouldn't ever go out of his way to die, he was in a major accident. He had been driving home when a car ran a red light and hit him ride on the driver's side, killing Barry almost instantly. Barry had been in the hospital for a total of an hour before he was pronounced dead. Everybody who knew him was devastated, and he was buried in the same graveyard as his parents in Central.

Barry, however, was happily spending eternity with Oliver back in the house in Starling.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are much appreciated! (especially comments, im a hoe for feedback)
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](http://lovelylerman.tumblr.com)  
> [my instagram](http://instagram.com/blosshom)


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